Deep Scars
by B Cardoso
Summary: [Previosuly called Strangers]A different Rory and Jess bump into each other for the first time when they are 21. She is a timid, strange girl who seems to be hiding something. He is the same bad boy wanna be, but he has grown up. Total AU Lit
1. Spaced Out

**Chap 01 - Spaced Out  
**

The rain drops that fall outside don't really make any difference for her. She likes rain, actually. It makes her calm, to see the world slowing down through drops of water pouring from the sky. Her tea has gone cold half an hour ago and she still holds the paper cup, knowing she won't finish it. The gray from the sky fits her mood. Maybe even her whole life. She has grown used to the color and the feeling that accompanies it. She even dares to say she is comfortable when surrounded by this mixture between black and white, good and evil, happiness and agony. 'Every sweet comes with its sore', she reminds herself - as if she needed something to remind her. The open magazine on the table lies forgotten. Some article about a disaster on the other side of the world on one side, a hit and run on the other page. She feels like it should affect her more, but it doesn't. Her biggest worry at this very moment is what she is going to do with her free time for the next two hours.

She is on vacation, so no classes or big tests to study for and her internship won't start until 2 p.m. She could go to the office, start her article and try to leave early, but really, what would be the point in that? She has never been a sports person, reading doesn't call her attention, she's not close to anyone, except Luke...but he is not the kind of guy with whom you'd have heart a to heart talk on the phone (or a talk on the phone at all) and Kayla, her only friend, that is also an intern with her, would annoy her endlessly.

So she just sits back on the cold, hard chair by the window, watching the sky turn into a darker shade of gray while the transparent drops fall all over the city. She doesn't mind staring out in to nowhere, really. She's been doing it for a long time now.

An hour and a half later she falls out of the rain spell that has been holding her, and looking around notices the time. She closes her unread magazine, sips her tea - just to be reminded it is almost icy cold and she makes a face - and stands up, putting on her heavy coat. She drops the half full paper cup into a trash can by the counter of the café and distractedly heads to the door.

When a heavy cold body bumps into her she can only mumble a "Sorry," before looking up. The guy staring back at her just shrugs and holds her arm, trying to help her balance herself. She steps back, retrieving her arm faster than a blink of an eye, as if his touch burnt. Each of them seems a bit shocked by her reaction, and each lean against the opposite side of the doorway inside the café. He looks taken aback, and his expression does not mask it. He seems like one to speak his mind, and even though he is a stranger, it oddly comforts her.

She whispers "Sorry" again, and he is not sure if it's for her distractedly bumping into him or the way she reacted to his help, so he just shrugs again and she can't help but smile at the ridiculosity of the scene repeating itself just in front of her. He notices the same thing and returns it with a half smile.

Suddenly his face doesn't seem as strange and she could swear she has seen him before. As he walks to a table by the far corner of the small place, the pieces come to place in her mind. He is the weird dark guy who always comes to the café and sits far from everybody else just to drink coffee and read with no disturbance. She doesn't pay much attention to her surroundings or the people around her, but this café has almost been her second home: close enough to work, just a block down from her apartment and has a huge variety of tea. And he goes there just as much as her, she can tell; at least once every couple of days. She has seen him so much out of the corner of her eye in the last couple of years that he has become a familiar face.

She walks the four blocks to the building, steps into the elevator and pushes the button to the 12th floor. The paper thin white walls that separate the desks from one another in the crowded office and the buzzing all over the place make her feel secure and content; invisible. She quickly makes her way to her cubicle and takes of her coat to leave it hanging over an empty chair besides her desk and computer.

She is just sitting down to start a new article when Kayla, her 'friend' who has been working as an intern for just as long as her, appears out of nowhere.

"Hey, Rory. You won't believe what happened to me last night!" she says excitedly before sitting on the chair next to the computer and starst rambling about her life as if Rory was very interested in the subject, "Then he took me to this delicious Tai restaurant and we started talking, and you know when you just connect with someone? When you look to the guy and it's like he can just read you and you wouldn't mind sharing a cab back to your apartment?"

Rory stops typing furiously like she has been since the beginning of the conversation and looks at the girl before her with a face of indifference, "No," she answers and goes back to her typing.

The other girl sighs loudly and dramatically, resting her head on her hands, looks at her friend. "You know, I don't think I've ever heard you talking about any guy in your life," she comments.

Rory just ignores Kayla, and keeps typing just as fast.

"Maybe that's what's wrong with you! You should go on a date," she suggests with a glint of excitement. Kayla is always like that, a good looking bimbo who apparently knows nothing about life. Pretty shallow about just everything and very dumb at times, but she can easily get excited about anything. She's a good girl deep down, Rory believes, but all her futility makes it really hard to actually see it.

"There are a lot of things that are wrong with me, but I don't think that's one of them," Rory replies, not looking up.

"If you are worried because you don't know anyone in the city, I know many guys that would be very willing to go out with a girl like you," she insists, looking Rory up and down to make her point even more obvious.

Rory groans. How can you tell someone when they are acting beyond obnoxious and not hurt their feeling? Not that she cares all that much about Kayla's feelings, it's just that she is the only person she knows and talks to in this city and the closest (and only!) thing next to a friend that she has.

"Kayla, don't get me wrong, I tolerate you, but I _really_ don't want to talk about my dating life with you. Or anyone, for that matter," she says slowly, in a tone which she hopes is not too be a rude.

But Kayla seems unaffected and oblivious to what Rory really meant to take any offense in what she said. "Well, or your lack of dating life," she points out. Her words are not of anger or meant to provoke, she just wants to make a point and convince her friend to go out and have some fun. "Really, you're a hot chick, but if you keep up with this whole 'I'm difficult' pose, not many guys will stick around for long."

Rory sights, tired of this useless conversation and stands up, "I'm gonna say this for the last time and please, try to get it. Take notes if you have to: _I don't do dates!_ Stop trying to hook me up with your loser friends and just leave me alone!" She grabs her coat again and leaves her cubicle, heading straight for the elevators.

"You just got here," Kayla screams from the chair, but no one besides Rory seems to notice it, in the busy and noisy office.

"It seems I'll be working late tonight," is Rory's only response as she enters the elevator.


	2. Compromising

**Chap 02 - Compromising**

She paces back and forth in the lobby of the building, the smoke fills her lungs and is released through her barely parted lips. She sights deeply, throwing her head back and feeling more relaxed. The thought of going back to the office is discarded as soon as it crosses her mind. Dealing with Kayla isn't easy any normal day, much less today.

She throws the rest of her cigarette in a trash can nearby and walks back to the small café, letting the rain hit her skin almost in slow motion.

The café is as busy as it gets. The large woman sitting at a table for two with a red dress, make up, and a blonde wig that makes anyone take pitty on her. For some reason it reminded her of Miss Patty and her chain of gossips. A few tables to the right there is a mid-aged man wearing a suit and looking extremely stressed, while going through some papers; phone on the ear held by the shoulder, coffee forgotten. On a stool, some young black girl is eating a pastry and watching the sky fall apart outside. This is as busy as the café would ever get. It is a wonder it's still open. And sure enough, in the far corner, there he is, reading some book. He doesn't even look up when the door opens, too caught up in the plot.

For a moment she berates herself for wishing he would stop reading and look up at her, pay attention to her. No such luck.

She goes to the counter and orders a large green herbal tea. Sitting at 'her' table, she takes a sip and stares outside, making a mental note to bring some of this to Luke next time she visits him. She misses him. Not so much the talks, because there weren't many. Or the hugs, because he could never guess when or if she would feel uncomfortable with them, and he was just too embarrassed and uncomfortable to ask - better safe than sorry. It is more about his presence, always being around for her, making her feel safe.

"Hey," someone says in front of her. She turns to face the person and blinks a few times, trying to concentrate. Only now she notices she had totally spaced out, staring at the same spot out the window for at least the last ten minutes. The quiet boy that was reading sits across form her and introduces himself, "I'm Jess."

"Rory," she answers, still a little frazzled.

"Rory," he repeats. "So, that's the girl who comes to the café almost every day to sit by the window, drink some tea and stare outside?" he lamely tries to start a conversation.

She doesn't laugh or answer, a bit scared that maybe he has been noticing her a little too much for her taste after all.

He seems lost. Trying to make the best out of the situation, but coming out empty handed. He sighs and decides to be straight, "Look, I've been coming here almost every day for the last five years, and I'm pretty sure you've been coming here on a daily basis for at least a year. Now, even though you look a bit creepy, always staring out the window and never saying a word to anyone, for some reason I think you're very interesting. So, I was wondering...if you wanna go out some time?"

She shakes her head, not believing this, "You tell me I'm creepy, and then ask me out in the same sentence? And you actually expect me to accept?"

"I was being straight and honest. I don't see a reason for you to refuse," he said, sipping the coffee he had brought to her table with him.

He is unbelievable. Since she usually has a 'creepy' demeanor, as people would call it, not many guys approach her, but she was pretty sure it was extremely rare for a guy to call a girl creepy while asking her out.

She shakes her head, "You come here, sit at the far corner, just read your stupid books, as if the rest of the world doesn't exist, don't talk to anyone, and you have the guts to call me creepy?"

He smirks, "Someone has been paying attention."

"You're always here, I come here every day. It'd be very hard for me not to notice you, like any other furniture in the place."

"Now I'm a chair?"

"A table, if you prefer," she responds, grinning.

He grins back,"So, about the date..."

She cuts him off, "I don't do dates."

His eyebrows raise, surprised that such a beautiful girl would say that. "You don't date?"

"I don't date," she confirms.

"Okay, that may be a problem..." he concedes.

"That's what I thought," she agrees, thinking he is giving up.

"Why don't you do dates?" he asks, curious.

"I've never really got into the whole dating thing,"she admits without thinking. She rests her hands in her lap, and stares at the table like he does.

"So, you don't like guys?"

"Not really, you - as na espicie - are disgusting most of the time."

"So...you're into girls?" he tries, uneasy.

She smiles at his discomfort, wondering if that's how it works every time he asks a girl out. She shakes her head slowly, "I'm not a lesbian."

"Then you don't date just because you don't want to?" he confirms.

She half nods and half shakes her head, "Something like that."

He stares at the table some more before raising his head to look at her again, "Okay, we need to find a compromise here," he pauses, "I agree not to go on a date with you if you agree to go out with me?"

"How would that be a compromise?" she asks, slightly annoyed. "Me agreeing to go out with you consists of a date."

"Not necessarily," he points out, shoving a card up his sleeve. "If we, by chance, meet here and have some coffee together, then we're having fun together, but it's not a date. It's a total causality. You won't have to dress up or try to impress me and I won't lie to you, telling you what a great guy I am, what are my perspectives for the future. And I won't pay for your coffee."

"So romantic". She mocks, sarcastically.

He shrugs, "It's not a date, therefore romance isn't needed." He half mocks back. "So, you in?"

"I don't drink coffee," she tells him.

"You can get yourself tea," he suggests.

"You're really not paying the bill?"

He shakes his head, "Nope."

She grabs her purse to leave, "I think I may come here tomorrow for tea and some lunch around noon," she says, standing up.

"Okay," he nods, smiling.

When she is half way out the door, he shouts and tells her, "I won't be at the table in the corner!"

She turns around and smiles at him. A smile. A real smile. For him. He had never seen her smile, her eyes soften for a moment. He goes back to his coffee and watches her outside, walking down the street through the window.

She unlocks the door and then closes it with her foot, throws the keys at the coffee table and grabs the phone on her way to her room. Her fingers skin the buttons, pushing the familiar number that she calls at least a few times a week. She starts pulling at her clothes and changing into her pajamas as it rings once...twice...and he picks up.

"Hey!"

She smiles, "Hey" Do you always answer the phone this friendly?" she teases.

He rolls his eyes on the other end, "I knew it was you!"

"And how did you know that?" she insists.

"Who else calls me?"

It's a rhetorical question, but she laughs and answers anyway, "A customer... a supplier?" she suggests.

He rolls his eyes again. Sometimes she sounded so much like her mother. "Okay, let me rephrase it, who else would call me after nine on a Thursday?"

"Oh, okay then," she says innocently, holding her laugh.

"So, anything interesting happened today?" he asks the same question every time they talk, probably out of things to say or questions to ask.

"Work sucked. I just worked on this small boring article. Kayla was even more annoying than usual and a guy invited me to a non-date."

This caught his interest, "A non-date?"

"Yeah, something like he'll be there and if I want I can go, but no strings or pression or anything like that."

"Huh," he says, his grumpy voice showing. "What kind of guy ask a girl out on a non-date?" he asks, his protective instincts kicking in.

She laughs at his concern but feels touched, "Actually he asked me on a date, but I said I don't do dates, so he came with this 'compromise'. His words."

"Huh," he says again, not enjoying the situation in the least.

"It's just tea and some luch. We will be in a public place," she reasures him. "Don't worry, Lukey!"

"Don't call me 'Lukey'," he tells her in what he hopes to sound a stern voice.

There is silence and then her soft voice, "My mom used to call you Lukey," she remembers.

"Yeah, she did. Only to annoy me," he adds in a bittersweet moment.

"I have to go," she blurts out.

"Rory..."

"I have to go, Luke," she says in an urgent voice.

"Just...be careful on your non-date tomorrow. And call me if anything happens. I'm always here for you, okay? To talk to anything...just call me, okay?" he keeps repeating himself, worried.

"Okay," her voice is not so rushed anymore.

"You're all I've got, kiddo," he tells her, and she smiles with watery eyes.

"Good night."

"Sweet dreams, Rory."

"Hey, Luke?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, kid."


	3. The Longest NonDate Ever

**Chap 03 – The Longest Non-Date Ever**

She fumbles with the keys before finally getting the right one into the lock and runs straight for her room, throwing her purse on the couch in the process. She starts pulling at her blouse and undoing her social pants at the same time, frantically in front of the mirror. The clock on her night stand reads eleven thirty. "Oh crap, I'm gonna be late," she mutters under her breath.

She opens her closet and goes through it, trying to find the perfect outfit. Ten minutes later she is still empty handed and even more late. She's never been on a real date (not that this is one) and has no idea what would be proper to wear. She thinks of calling her best and only friend, Kayla, and ask her what she should wear, but then she was almost certain she would step into the café wearing a mini skirt that left little to imagination and a short tee with "fuck me" written on it, and she doubts that's the first impression she wants him to have of her. Although he seemed to be under the impression that she was creepy.

She tries to remember someone else who she could call and ask for advice. The only other person that pops into her mind is Luke, and he definitely wasn't an option. She goes through her clothes again and ends up wearing a silky dark red dress that barely touches her knees. Her long hair, is let down loose and flow-y. She stares at herself in the mirror. She thinks the image gives her a childish and innocent look – she hates it. Although, she thinks that's exactly what guys see when they look at, or hit on her. She wonders if that's the type image Jess see when he looks at her. She puts her sandals on and is about to leave, when she changes her mind.

Remembering his words – "it's not a date" – she pulls the dress off and gets out one of her favorite jeans and puts them on. She goes to a pile of tees, chooses an orange one, and pulls a large sweatshirt that makes her feel safe and comfy. To put the finishing touches on the casual look. She pull on her black-and-white Chuck Taylor's and looks in the mirror again. Satisfied with her comfortable look, she half smiles and says "It's not a date anyway."

She looks at the clock again and it reads twelve fifteen. She flies out of the apartment, like a bat out of hell. Nearly forgetting to take her purse on the way out.

When she steps inside the café he's sitting at her usual table. She walks over to him, smiling. "So, you really aren't at your table." She says with a bit of playfulness.

"I told I wouldn't be". He raises his eyes from the book that hides his face and she can see the remnants of a smirk forming. "You're late," he jokingly accuses.

"It's not a date, therefore I can't be late," she points out.

"Touché." He lets his head fall to the side, watching her from another angle.

She starts to get nervous with him staring at her like he is, and fidgets with her fingers. Looking around, and avoiding his eyes at all costs. "Are you going to eat?" she finally asks.

"Nah, not hungry. I've already coffee. But you can't get yourself whatever."

She looks a bit surprised, even though it had been a part of their compromise, "You're really not buying me food."

He answers, "Nope," not even looking up from his book.

She stands there for a bit expecting him to say more, or a least look up from his book. He continues to stare into his book, acting as if he doesn't notice her stare. She gives in, heads to the counter and orders a carrot sandwich and some juice. When she brings her own food to the table he lets his book down and makes a disgusting face.

"I can't believe you actually paid to eat this."

"It's healthy. Plus as an added bonus, it'll make me live longer. You should try it sometime."

He keeps looking incredulously at her, so she adds, "Besides, I grew up pretty much eating just veggies. It was all Luke ever ate, and he got me addicted to it somehow."

"Luke? Ex-boyfriend?"

She shakes her head, "I told you; I don't do dates."

He rolls his eyes, his eyes not really believing her. "Right. Sorry. My bad."

She ignores the thin layer of sarcasm that comes with his words.

"Anyway, Rory, let's talk about you. Since this our first non-date, and non-dates are where one gets to know the other. Tell me about yourself."

"There's really not much to tell." She answers, not stopping eating, and definitely not looking to him.

"Okay, let's start with the basics. What do you do?"

"I study journalism at NYU and I'm an intern at The New York Post."

"Impressive. Mommy and Daddy must be really proud."

"I'm not sure you could say that." She says in a bit of a sad, distant tone.

Seeing it's a sour subject he lets it drop.

"And what do you do for fun"

"Normal stuff... go to the movies, watch some plays, watch baseball, cook..."

"Uhm... okay. We have very different concepts of 'fun' and 'normal stuff'."

She kind of smiles, knowing he's right. Twenty-one-year-old girls don't usually watch old baseball matches on a Saturday night. But being brought up by Luke meant having a different life style. She was very grateful for what Luke had done for her, but sometimes she missed stupid stuff. Like going shopping for a whole day or having a 'movie night' mocking time less classics, and eating an amount of junkie food that would scare any sane person. Just normal girly stuff. She loved Luke. She loved him, like a father. But sometimes she couldn't help but missed having her mother.

Jess noticed her expression had gone pensive and distant. He decided break her thoughts and bring her back to their non-date. "So, do you have any plans to this afternoon?"

"No, I'm free. I worked in the morning," she explained

"Good. I don't work either. What do you say we prolong this non-date for the day."

She was unsure. She wasn't used to dates and boys, and she surely didn't know how to act. But for some reason she felt safe with him and they were having a good time. There were no rational reason for her to say 'no', so she said, "Yeah. Sure."

"That was the longest time it ever took a girl to say 'yes' to a non-date, but whatever I won't feel offended. Only because you say you don't date much. I guess a late 'yes' is better than a early 'no'."

She smiled at his comments. "So, Jess, what about you? What do you do?"

"I work at a book store, and as a waiter. There is always some weird one-day jobs too. It's easy money and it pays the rent."

"What do you mean by a 'weird one-day jobs'?"

"Like, if a friend of mine gets sick and he works at a market or some low profile store. He calls me, I go to work for him so he won't get fired, and he gives me some money in return."

"Sounds interesting," she says, with a very neutrally.

"Not really," he says honestly.

"And what do you study?"

"I don't study actually. I've dropped out of school when I was 17. No not too school for school". He says in response to look she gave him. "It just wasn't my thing. But a couple of years later I got my GED. After that I've been through some community college folders, but I don't know what I want to do with my life yet... maybe, when I figure it out I'll apply somewhere."

"Wow, guess you're parents aren't proud of you, huh?"

He looked at her in a funny way, not expecting those words to come out of her mouth. Just then she realized what she had said.

"No, not really. But then again, they never were any kind of role models. They can't really expect much out of me, I guess. And they never did."

Rory closed her eyes and lowered her head before lifting it up again. "Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. It just slipped. I don't-"

She was about to apologize and explain herself over and over again but he interrupted. "No problem, your words didn't offend. It's not like I didn't know that before you said..."

"Still, I shouldn't have..."

"Hey, don't worry. Really. Just drop it."

"Okay."

Both stared at their drinks in silence, not knowing what to say. The non-date had just turned from nice and pleasant. To awkward and uncomfortable. They had already agreed on staying through out the afternoon, and neither had the courage to break the deal – or really want to. But at the same time they couldn't find a single conversation to strike up, and continue with. Rory's life was almost non-existent, and she simply couldn't talk about her past. Jess had been seen as a failure since he was born, and he too had a past he didn't really want to get in to.

He kept flipping through the pages of his book. She kept playing with the tips of her hair, rolling it on her finger. When the silence got unbearable, he sighted deeply, and spoke. "Do you like book stores?"

"No," she said in a small voice.

"Oh, okay," he said frustrated.

"Why?" Rory asked out of curiosity.

"I was just wondering if you'd like to go to the bookstore I work at. It's only a few blocks from here...it's pretty cool. If you like to read, that is."

"We can go there."

"But you don't read."

"I used to. When I was little."

"O-kay. Let's go then," he stood up, wishing he hadn't offered to spend the whole day with her.

They were at the back of the store, in the Classics section. Jess was sitting against the wall with a pile in front of him. While Rory sat in front of him, against a shelf. Watching as he went through the pile.

"They're all Hemingway books," she pointed out, after ten minutes of awkward silence.

"Yeah, the guy was a genius. Have you ever read any of his stuff?"

"I tried 'The Sun Also Rises' when I was ten."

"And?"

"I slept before I reached the fifteenth page. The man is a cure for insomnia."

"Huh," he said before going back to one of the books.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in the most agonizing awkward silence. His regret for asking her to spend the afternoon with him was just as big as her regret for accepting the offer. Jess thought of ways to avoid her at the café, since he definitely didn't plan on asking her out again while Rory wondered of other coffee shops near her work, she could go to in order to avoid him. He scheduled his work shifts in his mind, while she went through her 'to do' list in hers. She started to write her next article on napkins, while he read a short novel and made notes on the margins. They were totally out of tune.

After the longest five hours of their lives. She said she had to go home to work on an article, and he acted as the gentleman that he wasn't and insisted on walking her to her apartment.

"Well, this is me," she said, pointing to the building.

He nodded. "Well, I guess I'll see you around," he said, two steps away from her.

"Yeah, sure," she paused. "Good night, then."

"Yeah, night."

He was turning around and walking away from her forever when she did the most spontaneous, unexpected thing she's ever done in her life. She took a step forward, grabbed his hand, pulled him to her, and crashed her lips onto his. She was acting in the spur of the moment, doing the first thing that came to mind. She was kissing him, and she had no idea what she was doing. Jess was a bit shocked at first, but soon took the initiative and began leading the kiss. Kissing her back. His lips moved against hers softly and slowly. It was much softer and slower than he normally kissed. It was sweet. She just followed his lead, and when he stepped back, she couldn't help but smile

"'Night," she whispered and went inside, not even waiting for him to answer. As soon as she reached her apartment and got in. She locked the door and leaned against it. Allowing herself to slip until she was sitting on the floor. Rory touched her lips dazzled and amazed, with a fool and happy smile on her face. Her first real kiss.


	4. Cold Gray Days

**Chap 04 -Cold Gray Days**

She passes in front of the café's window for the fifth time in the last twenty minutes. Each time she tries to look casual, like any other citizen walking on the street. Each time she looks inside, she finds him the same way she had found him just a few minutes ago; sitting at her table, engrossed in a book.

After her sixth window pass, she stops in front of the door and just stares at it, wondering what's the right thing to say or do once she is inside. She reaches for the doorknob and enters the cozy place as fast and quiet as she can. The few steps to the table seem to echo in her ears, and her heart pounds just a bit faster with each step. She sits across from him and sighs, waiting expectantly.

He looks up from his book and closes it, marking the page he was reading in the process, "I was wondering when you'd finally come in, I mean, you've been out side in the cold for almost half an hour. I was starting to think you'd leave without your green today," he says, pushing a cup on the table to her side.

She smiles nervously, blushing, and he smirks at her embarrassment.

"I had a good time yesterday," he tries to break the ice and sips his coffee. She smiles at his attempt to be nice, even if though he is lying blandly to do so.

"I think I had just as much fun as you did," she tells him, making him smirk in recognition of her sarcasm.

"I guess the whole bookstore idea was that good, huh?"

"It was fine. I'm just not good at the whole dating thing. I've told you that," she reminds him.

"You were fine. I should have taken you to somewhere else. I'm not really a dating kind of guy myself. It's usually easier to hook up."

"Oh," she blinks. It's not that she expected him to be the type of guy who buys chocolate and flowers for his girlfriend. Hell, he didn't look like he ever had or would want to have a girlfriend. It's just that she can't figure where she fits in this scenario, with him. Why did he ask her out if he only wanted to hook up? And why was he waiting her at her table if their date the night before was catastrophic? Maybe that was it, maybe he wanted a 'real date' this time, to get what he wanted and move on.

He looks at her distracted eyes and snap his fingers in front of her face to get her attention back. She looks at him annoyed and he feels like he said the wrong thing. "Look, it wasn't supposed to come out like that. But since we're being so honest with each other, I didn't see the problem," he defends.

His logic somehow makes sense to her, and that alone bothers her even more.

"Hey, what are you doing Saturday?"

Her eyes blink a few times and her breath catches in her throat, "Why?" She's barely able to make out.

He shrugs, "I was thinking we could have a real date...dinner, movies...I'll pay this time," he smirks.

"No," comes her cold answer, a little louder then she intended.

He's taken aback. He looks around, and sure enough the people around the café are giving them funny looks. He leans forwards, ready to stand up, "Okay, I'll just go back to my table..."

Quietly she reaches for his hand and holds it against the table, "I mean, I can't. I have to do something on Saturday."

He sits back and looks at her curiously, causing her the need to elaborate. She sighs and adds, "I've told Luke I'd go back to my home town for the weekend."

He nods, "Are you busy on Sunday?"

She shakes her head, "No."

"Can I interest you in movies and pizza?"

She smiles, "Your treat?"

He smiles back, "Sure. What kind of gentleman I'd be if I didn't pay our date?" He playful mocks as if her asking was the wildest thing he'd ever heard.

She shakes her head, amused, "I wouldn't know."

Friday comes all too soon. It always comes this time of the year. She gets home from work, packs a bag with a few clothes, turns the lights off and locks the door to leave in less than an hour. She goes to the station, buys a ticket for the last bus departing in the evening and sits down on a bench, aimlessly waiting for the time to pass. She writes an article for work, calls Luke to tell him what time her bus will arrive, and finally gets on the bus once it does. The ride is quiet and boring, but she doesn't mind. A few hours later she steps out of the bus to be greeted by Luke. It's late and the whole town is sleeping like she anticipated. They hug each other with a bittersweet feeling and walk in silence to the diner.

Luke's apartment hasn't changed a bit, and Rory smiles at the familiarity. She goes to her old room, memories floating her mind. Luke knocks on her open door and she turns around.

"I've missed you kid," he tells her, with a sad smile gracing his face.

She likes the way he says it, like she's really his kid and he'd always take good care of her.

"Me too," she pauses. "I miss having you around. That city can be so lonely sometimes."

He looks worried at her, "You could always come back, transfer colleges, go to Yale or something...somewhere closer."

She shakes her head determined, "No. I couldn't stand this town my teenage years, and the feeling has yet to change. I can't stand to be back here again...not now"

He understands her. He felt like that back then too, and even years afterwards. The town seemed too nosy, too mean. But of course it had been way worse for her. No matter how much he had tried, he couldn't stop the gossips, the questions or the comments.

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it better for you," he sounded remorseful event though he's not the one to blame; it's this whole fucking town, it's people who aren't even there anymore.

She walks to him and hugs him, "I know. It's not your fault."

She goes to the kitchen and sits at the table, he follows her lead and sits across from her.

"Luke, I just wanted to thank you for every thing you've done for me. Taking me in when I had no one else to go to, and adopting me after my mom- after what happened to her. Thank you for paying for Chilton and NYU and my apartment and every thing," She paused, and couldn't help the tears that flowed down her cheeks as she began to sob. "And especially for taking care of me, for being a real father to me," she started crying even harder.

Luke's eyes were filled with tears as well, "Oh, God, Rory... You know I love you as if you were my own daughter," he said, pulling his chair to her side and hugging her awkwardly. "I'm sorry I've raised you the way I did, I mean, what kind of father would take his daughter fishing during her vacations? I just didn't know what to do, but I swear I've tried my best," he paused again, wiping some tears away. "You know, Lorelai would have killed me if she found out I've got you into drinking tea," He smiled trying to joke a bit with her to lighten the mood. "She would always come here and beg for coffee, and when I would say 'no' she would go on and on about how it's was a divine drink and how she simply needed it to survive. She used to say she wouldn't let anyone get in her way to her coffee."

Rory tried to take deep breaths, trying to calm herself down, "I miss her. I miss her so damn much. I miss having a mom and talking about stupid things. I miss having her addicting me to coffee, talking about boys and mocking films with me. I wish things could have been different," She says, looking at her hands guilty, knowing it to sounded like she didn't appreciate everything Luke had done for her. Which would be the farthest thing from the truth. She loved Luke, and is grateful for everything he had given up and done for her. It's just sometimes she really missed her mom.

Luke puts his hand on her cheek and makes her look at him, "Rory, pay attention. I'll tell you this as many times as you need to hear it: It's not your fault. Nothing that happened was your fault. You have to know that your mom loved you and that she never blamed you for anything. Believe me, you didn't do anything wrong!"

The tears stream down Rory's face even harder; her eyes are red and huge, pained. "It's my fault she's not here anymore."

"No, it's not!" He hugs her tightly and repeats himself louder, "No, it's not. It's not, you listening? It's not your fault!" He sighs , also beginning to cry as well. "It was not your fault when those bad these happened to you and her," his voice cracked. "Lorelai just did what she thought she had to do- she didn't think, she just did it. And then, when the accident happened- it was an accident, there is nothing you could possibly have done!"

Rory continued to cry hard, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Hey, your mother loved you. She would always tell me that when I went to visit her! She would say how bad she felt for everything that happened to you; for not having found about it before, for not being able to protect you. And she would repeat endlessly how much she loved you. So, you see, she wouldn't want you to feel like this. She wanted you to be happy," he said, wiping her tears and giving her a tentative smile.

Rory sighed and yawned, exhausted from the conversation and the tears.

"Now I think it's time we went to sleep. Tomorrow will be a really long day and we both need our rest."

Rory nodded and stood up, Luke did too. He kissed Rory's forehead and wished her good night. Rory didn't say anything back, she just went back to her room, lying on her bed and crying quietly until she finally fell asleep.

She woke feeling as if she hadn't slept at all. She went to the shower and even put a little make up on, but the bags under her eyes just wouldn't disappear. She got dressed slowly, consciously trying to avoid the inevitable. Her black pants and sweater fit her mood perfectly (besides, that was the proper clothing).

She went downstairs to the closed diner. Luke was already there, waiting for her with a to go cup of strawberry tea. She smiled at him, remembering her old routine of her Chilton days. He would always wait for her with a to go cup of tea and danish, so she could just run down the stairs and out of the diner as fast as she could, avoiding contact with any of the diner patrons.

"No problem closing the diner this year?" she asked, accepting the tea and trying to start small talk.

He shook his head, "Taylor gave up on trying to give me a fine last year."

As they left and Luke locked the door, Rory watched a desperate Kirk next to the window, face against the cold glass, obviously hoping to make Luke change his mind. Rory nodded to Kirk, silently asking 'what about him?'

Luke shook his head in disbelief, but not surprised, and fell into step with her. "Kirk still doesn't accept that I can close the dinner whenever I want. Actually it's more about him not having any where else to go. He says his mothers drives him crazy but, that even if he tries to stay at his house, she sends him away."

Rory giggles a little and Luke tries to continue the subject and keep her in a light mood, "Last year he knocked on the diner's door for three hours on Christmas eve, trying to get me to open the diner for him."

The walk to the cemetery. As they get closer they fall into silence. Rory only looks at her black shoes, while Luke steals some glimpses at her every now and then, to make sure she is alright. When they arrive at Lorelai's grave Luke hugs Rory and takes a few steps back.

Rory sights, "Here I am again," she says to the dark grey stone. "I miss you, you know? I think about you every day; I swear." She gets down to talk closely to the cold stone, "I wish things could have been different. I _really_ do. I'm so sorry for every thing." A couple of tears stain her cheeks as her tears trek their way down. "Luke says it wasn't my fault, none of it. You know that for so many years I didn't believe him, but sometimes I wonder if there was anything I could have done to change what happened. I don't know, I really don't. I'm sorry if I was responsible for your death or for what happened... Luke says you would always tell him you loved me when he went to visit you. I like to believe it's true, cause I love you." She wiped her drenched eyes and took a deep breath. "I guess I'll see you next year. Bye, mom"


	5. The Beginning of Everything

**Chapter 05 - The Beggining of Everything **

She had been staring out the window of the bus for the last hour or so when she decides to call Jess.

"Hey."

"Hey you," he replies, and she can swear he is smirking.

"How are you?"

"Fine. Are you home yet?"

"On my way. I should get in the city within a few hours."

"Would you be interested in seeing a movie tonight?"

"Sure. Meet me at the bus station?"

"What time?"

"Seven."

"I'll be there," he says and hangs up.

When she steps out of the bus he is waiting for her; a half smirk and rarely seen smile playing on his lips and an herbal tea in his hand. She walks to him and eagerly tries to reach the to-go cup. He holds it behind him and with his free hand pulls her close and kisses her lightly, briefly. Then he hands her tea, "Didn't want to get the yucky green thing taste in my mouth," he explains.

She only rolls her eyes, "Where are we going?"

"The movie place is about a block away from here."

"And what are we going to watch?" she asked as they stepped into the theater.

"Don't worry. No crazy drama. Actually, I think you play the serious thing a little too well, so I'm taking you to a comedy." He says playful, but with hints of seriousness in his tone.

As soon as she steps on the street she lights up a cigarette. His face takes on a funny expression so she offers him the pack, "Want one?"

He shakes his head, "No, I quit about two years ago."

She takes a drag, wrapping her coat closer to her with her other hand, "Really?"

"Yeah. You should too. It's bad for your health, ya know? Your lungs will not be thanking you in five or ten years."

She takes another drag and blows it slowly into the night, and though he wouldn't admit it to anyone -least all her- he found it extremely sexy.

"It's all part of the equilibrium, you know. I drink tea and eat vegetables so I can also smoke. I've got it all figured out, really," she tells him, her voice hinting some irony.

He narrows his eyes at her and she smiles a little, rolling her eyes, "I'm trying to quit," she gives in. "Now I only smoke when I'm very nervous or uncomfortable or angry…"

He looks down, "Which one are you know?" he asks quietly.

"Shit!" she curses, now just realizing the implications of what she had said.

"You were tense through out the whole movie. I'm wondering is it because of me or the trip home?"

She sighs, "It's not you….it's just the movie."

"The movie?" He asks in disbelief. She nods.

"What's wrong with it? It's only 'The Chocolate Factory'. There's chocolate and other various candies. Little men with green hair and orange faces singing and dancing. It's supposed to make you laugh or want to hang yourself depending on how long you can sit through it. Don't tell me you have a thing against Oompa Loompas?" He asks playful not grasping the seriousness of it all.

"I know. I used to love that movie. My mom used to love that movie. It was her favorite!"

"Was?"

She takes another long drag and slowly exhales it into the evening air, "I went back to my home town to visit her. Yesterday was the anniversary of her death."

"Oh God! Fuck! I'm so sorry!" he says, cursing under his breath. "I had no idea… I would never have…"

"I know," she said, throwing her cigarette on the floor and stepping on it. "It just brought back some memories that were better left forgotten."

"I'm really sorry. I feel like an insensitive moron now."

She smiled at him, "You couldn't have possibly know; really don't worry." She musters up another small smile to give him some sense of reassurance.

He nods. "So…you want me to walk you home?"

She fumbles with her keys nervously before opening the door, and he follows her inside.

"Do you want a beer?" She asks over her shoulder.

"Sure."

While she retreats to the kitchen to get the beverage he looks around her apartment. It's not exactly what he expected. It's very clean and quite big for one student who likely spends all her time either at school or at her internship. Her living room is spacious, with a beige couch, a TV, a stereo and a few plants scattered around. He looks for personal touches and can find none. No pictures, no paintings, no bizarre objects or character lamps. Nothing that really gives the place character or a sense of its owner.

Down the hallway he can see two doors, which he assumes lead to her bedroom and the other, the bathroom. In the opposite direction of her living room is the kitchen. He looks at the white walls wondering what he expected out of the place. Maybe a messier living room with useless objects and quirky knick-knacks placed carefully here and there. A place more colorful, and livelier than what he was standing in; a place that gives insight into what lays beneath her exterior.

Berating himself for his previously thoughts, he accepts the small bottle she hands him. He drinks from the bottle and she does the same with her own. A moment later she stops and watches him with an almost intense look behind her azure orbs. Soon his lips are crashing atop her own with an unknown hunger and passion that is rising up from the pit of his stomach. He turns her around and pins her against the closed door. She tries to keep up and kisses him back a little clumsy, but he doesn't mind. His lips work their way from her mouth to her jaw line and down her neck, lightly bruising the area with his teeth and tongue. She closes her eyes, soft moans escaping her lips as her body gives in and responds to his mini attack.

He pulls away and downs the rest of his drink in a full gulp, allowing the bottle to fall hazard to the floor. With both hands now free he gently tugs her by the waist, pulling her closer to him. Her breathing begins to shallow and she wishes she had had more of the almost forgotten beer, lying on the coffee table.

He resurrects his attack on her lips. His kisses have as much force and hunger as the last time. This time around she is a bit unsettled and more self-conscious. Jess's fingers join in on the fun trending slowly up and down her back sending goose bumps running all over her body. Soft shallow moans can be heard tumbling in her throat, and chorusing out her lips. Rory's body flows against his as her fingers travel through his wavy locks. He pulls her even closer to him than she already is, and maneuvers his way backwards to the two doors he had seen earlier. She lets him lead the way, her lips never leaving his and her body as close as ever. A few feet later his is opening a door, and out of sheer luck it's the door to her bedroom.

She tenses a bit and hesitates when she see where they have wound up. After a moment of contemplation she follows him in. His lips and tongue are now having fun taste testing her collarbone. He pushes her against a wall now testing her neck while his fingers and hands draw circles and other twist and turns along her waist, hips and stomach. They find their way under her shirt, then flow up, bringing the fabric along for the ride with them. He pulls away and stops the fun only long enough to lift the shirt up and over her head. He take great notice of her tightly closed eyes, her shivering and trembling body.

He works his way to her mouth again, one hand delicately cupping her cheek. Her hands that were once in his hair and playing along his neck are now closed tightly by her sides, her nails digging into her palms painfully. Jess in a haze of want doesn't really take notice of the change in her response and body. He pulls her gently to the bed, she lands awkwardly on it and he clumsy falls over her. He adores her face with light kisses and when he places one on her cheeks is greeted with a taste of salty moisture.

He opens his eyes surprised at the tears and looks down, carefully at the girl under him. He notices her tightly shut and her balled up fists. Only now does he clearly see the stiff, scared tension of her body. The fear behind her trembling and shivering, and clear water tears running down the corner of her eyes. Her pained expression and how she looks like a scared and broken little girl, hurts even him.

"Rory?" he whispers in her ear.

Her eyes suddenly snap open, wide and fearful. Her small hands push him away with great force. He gets off of the bed and sits against the wall in front of her bed, unsure of what is going on, or what he should do.

She sits against the headboard. Her legs are tightly shut and enclosed in her body. Her chin lies on her knees with her arms and comforter wrapped protectively around her, with as little skin as possible show. She looks like a small child cocooning themselves against the dangers that go bump in the night.

"Rory…" It's soft and low; almost a whisper. He attempts to slowly stand and approach her.

"No!" she screams and he sits down again, even closer to the wall.

Her tears are flowing freely now and he swallows audibly.

"Hey….are you ok?" he asks worried from his spot on the floor, but she just keeps crying.

"Uhm….are you…..are you a virgin…..or something?" he asks uncomfortably, not knowing what could possibly have gotten her so freaked out. "Because it's okay, you know?" he continues, not knowing what to say or do. "You don't have to cry. If you want….I can just leave and pretend nothing happened." Her crying slows down a little and he adds, "Or I can stay and we can talk… whatever you want." He pleads in a low tone as not to scare her and begin the uncontrollable tears again. He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a shaky sigh.

She looks at him and how nervous he is, and decides the least she can do is explain the basics to him. She laughs bitterly remembering what he had asked, "I'm no virgin. Though I wish I was."

He narrows his eyebrows at her, confused and she sighs, knowing she will have to elaborate. "My mom had me when she was sixteen, and my father ran away. When I was ten, he came back. He swore to her had gotten his act together. He swore!" a bitter laugh leaves her lips once again as she shakes her head. "…..so they got married and we started the whole 'happy family' thing. But then my mom started getting more and more successful, and finally brought her own Inn like she always wanted…." Her voice gets shaky and droplets of tears cascade down. "….she was always busy, and he lost his job…and then they started fighting and he…he started drinking…" she sobbed.

Jess starts running a hand through his hair while the other picks at the hem of his worn out jeans, a nervous habits. He is still pretty much confused but has a good guess of what she's going to tell him next. He knows it's better to just let her talk, get everything out of her system, and have her be the one to tell him. So that's what he does. He sits against her wall listening and waiting.

She puts a hand to her head, as if to support it as she cries even harder. "Then, during my early teens….he would spend the whole day home, drinking. He started going….going….going after me, started…..he started….he started touching me…" she reveals in a strangled voice, her hands hiding her reddened face with pain and shame and anguish.

"Oh, Rory…" he groans in agony listening to her pain, and hurting for her and what he has to hear. He attempts to come closer again but she curls even tighter against the headboard, and he nods, understanding, and steps back into his spot.

"It was all just so… horrible. And painful. And disgusting. And humiliating. He was my father and he…he….and….I couldn't even stand to look at myself in the mirror. I felt such shame, and…." she pauses, looking extremely disgusted by herself. "After that I just couldn't…That's why I don't do dates. I can't… suddenly….it's like he…" Her words are cut off as she breaks down desperately allowing her tears and pain and anger take over her. He just sits there, watching her, having nothing else to do. He wants to go over and try to comfort her but he knows he can't, and fears that it would just make things worse. He feels like shit for putting her in a situation like this. Putting her back in that place and putting her through the pain of remembering. In all honesty, there was no way he could have guessed. But that thought doesn't help him feel less like shit.

He closes his eyes and lets his head fall, just listening to her cry. When she sounds more controlled he looks up at her and finds her looking at him, embarrassed.

He clears his throat, "I'm so sorry those things happened to you. Rory, I am so damn sorry." He says slowly, deep emotion lacing his worlds. He watches the tears rolling down her cheeks. "And now I don't know what to do, so I need you to tell me what _you _want me to do. Do you want me to stay or to go?"

She looks out the window he hadn't even noticed was there. After a few minutes she asks in the quietest voice, "Can you stay?" Her attention and focus never leaves the window. He nods and she half-smiles tiredly.

She takes a few deep breaths and lies down, pulling the covers closer to her small body and he doesn't dare to move until she is almost asleep. He then lies down on his spot on the floor.

"You can….you can sleep on the bed," she offers, her voice broken, her eyes more than half closed.

He smiles and shakes his head, "Nah, the floor is okay." A minute later he adds. "Good night, Rory." But she is already asleep.


	6. Day Off

**Chap 06 – Day Off**

He has been awake for at least an hour now, watching her peacefully sleep, but now it is almost eight and he doesn't know if she has to go to work or not. Deciding she would probably get pissed off if she got late at work he brushes her hair away from her face with the back of his hand and whispered in her ear, "Rory, it's almost eight. Do you have to go to work or you can sleep in?"

She stirred a little in bed, still allured by slumber, and slowly opens her eyes. He can't remember ever looking into such crystalline and pure pools of blue.

"Hi," she murmurs with a small smile and a puzzled expression playing on her face. A moment later she jumps on bed, pushing the covers tighter against her body.

Jess goes to sit on the foot of the bed, figuring she not used to waking up with a guy next to her – or by a guy.

She looks around, remembering the events from last night and then focus her eyes on his, blushing furiously. "I thought you'd be gone when I woke up," she admitted quietly.

He shakes his head, "Nope."

"I'm sorry about last night. I just threw all that on you, I didn't mean to… and also for the whole crying thing…" she pauses, resting her head on her hand.

"Headache?" he questions. She simply nods, and so does he.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," he says, finally. "Actually, I'm kind of glad you've told me. Now a lot of stuff makes sense…"

Rory looks down, "I guess."

"Do you have to go to work?"

"Just after lunch."

He nods, "Okay. Would you like some breakfast then?"

She looks up at him, and at his worried expression she smiles. "Breakfast sounds great."

Rory turns in bed when her phone starts ringing. She picks it up and answers it with a cheerful, "Morning Luke!"

"Hey, kiddo. How are you doing?"

"Pretty good, actually," she tells him, and for the first time in a long time he actually thinks she is not lying.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she laughs quietly at his worried voice and then becomes concerned herself, after all Luke also loved her mother, "What about you? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he says. "But I swear to God, if Miss Patty try to 'comfort' me one more time I'm moving to the city with you."

This time Rory starts laughing picturing him trying to get away from the old lady's embrace.

Luke clears his throat and becomes serious again, "But you know, I can always drive up to the city to spend a few days with you," he offers. Just then he hears a muffled male voice saying, "Breakfast is ready!" followed by silence.

"Rory? Are you there?" Luke asks on the phone.

"Uhm… yeah, yeah, I'm still here."

"Okay, so, who's that?"

"Hold on a second," she tells Luke and turns to Jess. "Thanks Jess, I'll be there in a second."

"Jess?" Luke questions.

Rory waits Jess to leave and then answers, "Yeah, Jess. He is the non-date guy."

"Oh," Luke says and pauses, "Ohhhh…" he says with realization.

"No, no, no," Rory says, noticing Luke's reaction. "It's not like that. Last night we went to the movies and we came to my place…"

"You don't have to tell me, Rory. It's not my business."

"No, it's no big deal. We just came to my place and then to the bedroom and-"

"No, _really_ Rory. I really don't want to know. I don't wanna hear _that_," he told her, a little panicked. She could almost see his face crimson, going crazy with every word she said.

She laughs quietly and then reassures him, "Nothing happened, really. I freaked out and… told him everything."

At this Luke becomes very quiet and concerned, knowing she hasn't really talked about the subject with anyone, ever. "Everything?"

"Well, not everything. Not yet. There was too much crying for that," she pauses. "I thought he was going to fly out of the apartment as soon as I fell asleep, but to my surprise he is making breakfast."

Luke can hear her voice filled with shyness and insecurity, but also happiness and excitement.

"He sounds like a nice guy," Luke says gruffly.

"I really think he is."

"Good. Well, I have to go, get back to diner."

"Right. Off course."

Rory walks into the small kitchen and sits looking at Jess, while he places a plate with pancakes in front of her.

"Juice or tea?" he offers, even though it's not his apartment.

"Juice, please."

"So, do you have to go to work soon?" she asks, taking a bite of her pancakes while he sits in front of her with a cup of coffee and a plate of pancake for himself.

"Not really. It's my day off. But I can leave… if you want me to go-"

"What kind of work lets you have Mondays off?"

He smirks, "I hate Mondays, so I usually take them off. Besides, my jobs have pretty flexible shifts, so I can make me schedule having Mondays off."

"Wow, I have a whole new respect for you right now. Not to work on Mondays…" she wonders aloud in a day dream.

Jess has to laugh and then mockingly asks, Rory, do you want not to go to work?"

"But then I would have to call in sick and I'm not sick… I can't lie."

"Okay," he says and leaves the kitchen. A moment later he is back with the cordless and hands it to her, "Dial the number," he asks.

She complies, not really sure why and he takes the phone back, waiting for someone to pick it up. The receptionist says the greeting she knows by heart and Jess silently mock imitates the girl while Rory giggles.

"Can I speak with Rory Gilmore's boss?" A pause. "Can I talk to someone in her department then?" After a moment he mumbles a 'thanks'. "Hey Kayla, this is Jess. I'm Rory's neighbor, and today I came to check on her and found her sick… No, it's nothing serious; she should be back tomorrow or the day after… Yeah, just next door… Jess Mariano… Yes, could you tell her boss that she won't be able to go to work today? O-kay… Yeah, thank you. Bye." He hung up and stared strangely at Rory before declaring, "You work with a bunch of nuts."

"Yeah, I know. What Kayla asked you?"

"A bunch of weird questions. She even asked me in which apartment I lived in!"

A panicked expression comes to Rory's face, "Oh, no! Oh, no! I'll never hear the end of it!" She hits her head on the table and groans.

"What?"

She stands up and starts to pace around out of nervousness, "Kayla is my best…co-worker, I guess. She knows my neighbors next! She told Mr. and Mrs. Jones to have sex more often and stop staring at her, for God's sake! And she has been bugging me for the longest time to go on a date!"

He raises an eyebrow and smirks, before mocking, "So, I'm the lucky guy who got to date you?"

She blushes furiously and playfully slaps him on the chest, but he grabs her hand and pulls her close, crashing her body onto his. Her eyes go wild and her heart races; he immediately let go of her hand, and asks in the softest voice, quietly apologizing, "Is it okay?"

She actually hears remorse in his voice, and she wonders if he cares and why. But it is definitely not the time for questions, so she just nods and he slowly lowers his lips to kiss her. If the moment wasn't so tense he would have laughed; their roles had been exchanged. Now he is the one with wide eyes, trying to be careful while she closes hers, trying her best to be careless.

The kiss is so soft and delicate; it's foreign to him and like everything else, new to her. He can't deny he's trying to make an effort, trying to be especially careful with her. And she can't deny she likes it, because it makes her feel like she matters. And she appreciates it. Since last night he has been walking on icy water, not sure what were the limits or how to ask the big questions. He rests his hands on her waist and pulls her even closer, his hands sliding down to her butt. Suddenly she hesitates on the kiss, trembling slightly, and he lets go of her, taking a step back, worried about having done something wrong. At his reaction she also takes a step back.

"I'm sorry… I just…" he stumbles on his words.

She looks down, "It's okay, I just…"

"Uhm…"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

"Okay."

After probably the most monosyllabic conversation she had ever had – and being raised by Luke it really means something – she had to laugh. Soon enough Jess joined her.

He kisses her again, "Go take a shower and I'll wash the dishes, then meet me on the living room so we can decide on what to do, okay?"

She smiles, "Sounds like a plan."


	7. Checking the Bases

**A/N:** Thank to MyCaptain for the beta.

* * *

**Chap 07 – Checking the Bases**

She comes back to the living room in sweat pants and a large sweatshirt. He looks back at her from the couch and pats the seat beside him. She goes towards him and throws herself comfortably on the couch, offering him a cup of tea. He takes and puts it on the coffee table without even having a sip, focusing all of his attention on the book he found almost hidden in her living room.

He holds the book over showing her, "I thought you said you didn't read."

"I don't," she reiterated. "But I used to. Before… everything."

He nods, "Want to talk about it?"

"Not especially."

"I'm just saying if you ever want to talk about it, I'm here—even if it doesn't seem so."

She looks down into her cup and takes a sip. "When I was a little girl I wanted to go to Harvard and I would do anything to get in, even at the age of five. So, I started reading, because it sounded like a good idea to start reading before others, like an advantage." She paused and he chuckled. "Anyway, as time went on, I fell in love with literature in general; I'd read all the time. But then mom got married and the time I used to spend with books was spent with something else. Now books just remind me of things I want to forget."

He studied her for a moment. "Maybe it's time to make new memories."

She nodded, more to end the subject than to agree. "Maybe."

"You know, I have to confess, I didn't think you were being honest about the whole 'not dating' thing," he said and she laughed. "Seriously, no offense, but you're hot and I thought you were kind of just playing me."

She shook her head. "I don't think I've ever actually been on a date. Except with you, that is."

He nodded from his corner of the couch, trying to muster up the courage to ask what was on his mind. "So, it's none of my business, but if I got it right you've never… slept with anyone after… everything."

She blushed furiously; he was right, that was certainly none of his business. But what was the point of not answering? She had already told him last night after all. She nodded quietly.

He tilted his head. "Your teenager years must have been really weird."

She made a face. "Tell me about it! After the whole town learned about what happened, I was a walking scandal. And since we only have one school in my town, I had to go to school in a town next to ours. It was a fancy school with jocks and girls who looked too much like Britney Spears in her earlier years."

"Scary."

"Very. Anyway, at least it helped me get into college. Besides, I also met Tristan there."

"Tristan?"

"Yeah, he's my best friend. Probably my only friend. He used to pick on me and ask me out until he found out about everything through his grandfather, who was friends with my grandparents. He could have ruined me, told the whole school everything, or blackmailed me. Instead he apologized and started hanging out with me, took me under his wing, per se."

"Sounds like a nice guy. Though I can't imagine you being all cozy with a guy."

She shrugged. "We're as cozy as I get; after all, he is my best friends."

He nodded, "I get it." He cleared his throat, "So, not to be pushy or anything, but what's going on between us?"

She shrugged again and looked down, "I don't know. You tell me."

"Me? Why do you think I know?"

She looked up at him with a pointed look, "I don't have any experience in 'this'. At least you have some."

He gave her a broken smirk. "I'd say we had a very weird first date and an even worse second one." She nodded a little sad, thinking of his next words. "But last night cleared up a lot of stuff and now many things make sense. This is a whole different game and you're not the only one playing it for the first time. With you the standard rules don't apply and you're the one who has to set the lines. So, really, right now it is up to you?"

She blushes faintly and tries to avoid his gaze, "So you wouldn't mind going out with me?"

"Not at all," he smiles at her and caresses her hair.

She shakes her head, "I'm not like the girls you've dated. I can't just sleep with you. It takes time for me to get comfortable with someone and to start touching them or letting them touch me. It'd be frustrating for you."

"You'll learn that I'm very patient," he smiled genuinely and pushed a strand of her hair behind her ear. She looks down, apparently not believing him, but he reassures her, "It's okay; I have time. The worst that can happen is we break up, right?"

She pauses for a moment and nods, giving him a small smile.

"So, now that we've cleared that up, can we watch a movie or do something? It'd be nice to try to do something kinda normal together to know what it feels like; if it gets boring we go back to weird," he joked.

She laughed. "Okay, what kind of movie do you wanna watch? No Oompa Loompas this time."

"Definitely not," he said seriously. "Okay I just refuse to watch chick flicks, besides that I'm game."

She smiles. "I can work with that." She went to the DVD player and a minute later came back to the couch to sit down next to him.

The film starts and it's his time to smile, her choice was perfect: _21_. In the middle of the movie he turns and looks at her for a moment, observing her beauty and analyzing her every expression. She looks too enthralled by the movie to notice him. He turns back to the movie, and a moment later does the age-old trick of yawn-stretch-hug and she stiffens and stops breathing. He doesn't move for a moment, keeping his arm in place as though he hasn't done it on purpose. It's not that he wants to push her limits, but he does want to know where some basic lines lay and he knows she wouldn't just say. He keeps staring at the TV, though his attention is on her tense body and his mind is silently counting the seconds; if she is still stiff when he reaches ten he'll just scratch the back of his head and keep his hands to himself for the rest of the film. Surprisingly, when he reaches seven she begins to relax and he smiles a little, by nine she goes back to breathing and they both go back to watching the movie.

Rory enters the familiar café the next afternoon to find, once again, Jess sitting at her table.

"Hey," she greets, sitting opposite to him with her tea and bagel.

"Hi," he greets back, putting his book down and taking a sip of his coffee. "So, you have work this afternoon?"

"Yeah. I work pretty much every afternoon so I can take the morning classes when school starts."

"Right," he pauses, thinking about how different their lives are in those aspects. "How long until you graduate?"

"Just another year," she replies, drinking her tea.

"And then?"

"I don't know. I like the place I work just fine and I know they will offer me a job but… I don't know."

For the first time he feels like she is being honest and totally comfortable around him, that she is saying more than he is asking just because she wants to.

"Why are you not sure?"

She sighs and smiles, trying to explain how she feels, "It just doesn't give me any thrill you know? It feels… dull."

He nods in understanding. "Then you should quit. I mean not now, try to find something better first, something you really want to do, then quit. You can't just settle, you know?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. But what about you? What are your perspectives for the future?"

"Besides getting you into bed?" he smirked and she blushed furiously. He chuckled, "I was just kidding. I have no intention on doing so anytime soon. But I intend on kissing you sometime soon. Besides that I want to quit the restaurant; I'd rather just work in libraries and book store, so I'm looking for a job in a book store or maybe even a coffee shop. I guess I just don't want to work in a restaurant anymore, really."

She nods. "Have you ever thought about, I don't know, having a real job? I mean, of course you have 'real jobs.' What I mean is, like, a job that you have to go to college to actually work on."

"No money to go to college, sweetheart," he says in a little mockery. It seems she never remember he doesn't have the same money she does and he had to constantly remind her of this; not his favorite task.

"Oh, right," she pauses. "Well, maybe next semester? I mean, we could try to find you a better job and there are some good community colleges that are pretty cheap, and if you read as much as I see you reading, then you have to be at least a little intelligent--"

"Wow, thanks!"

She gasps, noticing what she has said, "Oh, no, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean or that way-"

He chuckles, "I know what you meant and it's okay. Don't sweat it."

She sighs in relief. She doesn't have many people in her life and she doesn't want to lose the first to enter it in the last few years. "I really am sorry."

He shakes his head, smiling. "As I said, don't worry. I guess you're just not very used to being sociable to people."

She plays with her food, "I guess. During school I'd just try to be as invisible as possible. Just Tristan noticed me and thankfully he became nice to me soon enough. Besides that, I would just go to class and try to get good grades to go to college. And in college… well, I guess I'm anti-social, after all."

He laughs, "That makes two of us. And about college… and I don't know. Maybe it's not for everyone, you know?"

She stares at him for a second, trying to understand what he is saying as though he is speaking on a new language. "I'm sorry; what do you mean?"

He chuckles. "Just because you and some snob kids – no offense – went to college and fulfilled your parents dreams, it doesn't mean it's 'the right choice'. There is no 'right' or 'wrong' choice; there is only your choice."

"And this…" she motions around, not sure where to motion, "is what you want; to work in diners and grocery stores and restaurants and coffee shops?"

He chuckles bitterly, "Definitely not. But I don't think I want to go to college either."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"I haven't quite figured that out yet; haven't had the opportunity to try things out and see what I like, but I'll find out one of this days," he shrugs, not half as worried about it as she is and she envies him for that. "Okay, I have an interview. I'll see you tomorrow; maybe we could do something tomorrow night?"

She smiles. "Perfect."

He gives her a quick kiss that she isn't expecting and leaves before she can say anything, leaving her to stare at the chair he once occupied.


End file.
